Anthem of the Angels
by AnHeiressofaSOLDIER
Summary: Naminé: a girl plagued by loneliness and a bit of insanity; thoughts of time lost speaks to her, but she can barely hold onto the whispers. Ventus: the person bound to Naminé by choice, though his true identity and connection to her remains unknown. Vanitas: The friend that tries to kill Naminé when she stumbles onto a semblance of clarity. What deadly secret has Nami stumbled on?
1. Chapter 1: Run, As If You Have a Choice

**Chapter One: Run, As If You Have a Choice**

**Naminé's PoV**

The girl watched on, transfixed, as someone began humming listlessly in front of her. Bending her arms slightly out in front of her, but so her hands could still reach back to cover her heart, Naminé felt very much like... well, a girl she'd seen swooning over chocolate on an anime once.

She remembered well, with her artist's eye, how the pinkette had stood on her tiptoes, tipped her head back ever so slightly (and the way her eyes had been closed and her nose perked up hadn't hampered things, either), as she seemed about to float away into the candy shop that the boy… that the boy was playing the flute in front of.

Yes, Naminé didn't doubt that her current actions were much like the girl's from the TV show. It was just so strange, she found... Strange to find someone humming a song that wasn't bound by the rhythm that was words. Ever since the girl had learned that the Fair Folk created songs, and how they used the repetition to remind humans of what they needed to do, she had- she had...

"Excuse me! Pardon me, miss!" Came the sudden exclamation of a blond boy before Naminé's very eyes. Blinking slowly, for she felt as though she might have met her long lost twin with how much they looked alike, anyway, Naminé didn't have time to acknowledge that the flute player she'd been admiring had left.

In fact, unfortunately for her, she didn't even know that the boy's abrupt—and even fearful—tone meant that he was going to come spilling into her, and he did. Much more roughly than Naminé would have ever imagined it happening, in watching Hercules as a child and seeing the Olympus columns come tumbling down, she went slamming into the beam directly adjacent from her arm, and thought very well that she might just have broken her shoulder in the onslaught.

As the familiar feeling of blood started to eat its way at blond's shoulder, she found she wasn't to surprised that the stranger was looking at her with sympathy, but... she supposed she would have been even more "besotted" to him, if he didn't hastily get up and start running again.

Sighing, as she felt the faux-wind he'd created cause her hair to sway into her bloodied arm, Naminé hoped that the superstition she'd obtained—about if her hair ever got into any of her bloodied limbs, it meant it was broken—was decidedly not true for once.

Getting up to her feet slowly, Naminé paid adieu to the instrument shop that had been calling her name, and knew it was far time that she got home.

Still... she had to look in the direction the boy had disappeared to—and was she imagining it? Or was there hay floating in her way and not the other?—and wonder.

...

"I don't know what you're being so meticulous about, Nam," Konishi said, as she paused in her ritual of brushing of her sister's hair, and set to gliding her lengthened nails against said sibling's cheek.

How Naminé had always hated her sister's fake nails, and she knew she always would. Sure, It was nice that her sister always wanted to fix her hair like this, but her nails were very much a nuisance. And moments like right now... when she was accidentally scraping Nami's cheek, scared the blond very, very much.

"I mean, while it's true I like to look at every possible outcome, myself—something I'm sure you get from me, little sister-there's hardly any factual evidence that wind can take launch in one side of the area, and not the other. I'd stop looking for answers, if I were you. This is crazier than your faerie song theory. At least _that_had some evidence," Konishi continued on, as she seemed to have gotten tired of Naminé's hair for the time being, and was now looking in her closet for even more tops to wear with rumpled tops.

While Naminé knew it would never be in her sister's behavior to dress like a whore or act like one, that didn't mean she wouldn't get away with accentuating a few things, as to get the job positions that she wanted.

"I suppose you're right, Konishi," Naminé lamented, a bit sadly, as she stayed in the chair her sister had left her in and folded her hands. Waiting... why did it always feel as though she was waiting for something? It was moments like this when Naminé wished she'd thought to bring that etch-a-sketch she'd gotten for that one Christmas. Or, perhaps, even more accurately... that she was more social at school, so she could have friends—or be in clubs, even—so she wasn't alone in this terrible, awkward moment now.

"Maybe- perhaps I'm going a bit crazy. It wouldn't be the first time I royally screwed up. I know that. And sometimes I see these things about how serial killers start out like me, and I become deathly afraid, that I - I..." Naminé continued on, not even realizing she was tearing her already torn skirt to shreds, or that tears had begun to brim atop her eyelashes.

"I can comfort myself in the knowledge that crazy people never think they're insane, and since I often think I am, I must be okay, but even then... does that even mean anything at all? Or am I just comforting myself? I don't know the answer to that Konishi, and I wish I did. Huh?"

Clapping a hand to her mouth, astonished, as her last words had left her mouth much more clipped, and stronger sounding than usual (and also very matter-of-fact: a tone that Naminé, for all intents and purposes, had thought she'd been unable to reach), Naminé—full of astonishment and amazement—quickly escaped from her sister's room.

See? Naminé had noticed in her peripheral vision that Konishi had been about to try and comfort her via statistics or something on a chalkboard, and though Kinishi's attempt _was_ very much appreciated... Naminé understood how oddly the two of them acted around each other.

And since she didn't even know how to feel about everything herself, she knew it would be good if she just let Konishi play with her hair the next day, and spare them both the weirdness of it all for today.

Still... this would be the first time that Naminé would ever go to school the next day without Konishi completely fixing her hair, and perhaps that was the most out there thing of all…

Running a hand through her elongated bangs (they were nearly so long, they were about to just become one with her hair, Naminé knew), she tried to sort out all of the things going through her head, and just what she was supposed to do with her life now. Moving to France had been something Naminé never would have even anticipated happening, and now… here she was.

With that change in mind, how was she even supposed to get her head around all the other changes that her life seemed to revolve around?

Slumping onto her bed in a heap, and with such sudden exhaustion that Naminé thought she was like to fall asleep, she found herself of all things fingering the side-swept curtains that she called her bangs. She… she liked her bangs... it was perhaps one of the few things about her life that hadn't changed.

Konishi—though Naminé loved her—had never had a hand in styling her younger sibling's bangs, and Naminé found that she was glad for it. Her bangs, at least, were still very much her. And when there were days where it felt like nothing else was, that was a huge burden off her shoulders.

Then—putting a strange hand to the indention at the hollow of her throat, after thinking about her locks—Naminé said quietly to herself, "I'll find you soon: whoever branded me. You're my true family, and maybe there I'll find some answers. Even if- even if I was only ever meant to be a slave to you. And who knows? Maybe I'll even find I like being a servant to you. My will is lost to myself, anyway, and I'm trapped. So very trapped."

And as those words fell silently and tiredly from the girl's lips, she had no idea that she'd unwittingly spoken a spell, and even less idea that the tear she'd cried before falling into an almost coma-like state had powered it.

**Ventus' PoV**

Standing outside her window watching her, the boy from earlier—Ventus—(though Naminé was yet to know that), watched on in shock at the blood staining Naminé's hair, as much as she had stared at the flute sounds from earlier.

Still... though it was true Naminé _had_ just uttered a magic spell (without even knowing it, even), Ventus—at least—wasn't acting the way he was because of an enchantment placed on him. He couldn't say the same for Naminé, though, who had seemed mighty transfixed earlier. And even within the blond's awful sister did Ventus sense magic…

Though it was true that Konishi had experienced an odd bout of "Naminé love" just a moment ago (Ventus had seen it first hand), he knew it had to be because Naminé had wished for such a thing to be so. Otherwise... because of her power and caliber... there was no way a human could get close to Naminé without feeling scared. There was no way!

Heck, even Ventus had been afraid around the girl earlier that evening. When he'd stumbled into her, and then miraculously understood who she was, he knew without a doubt that Xehanort had been trying to get to her.

But since Ven had succeeded in bleeding her, though, and had tied her to his form in blood magic, it had made Xehanort rethink his plot, but Ven didn't delude himself into thinking it would work for long.

The moment Naminé was in Xehanort's grasp, he would snag her faster than Ven could even get things to move in the wind around him. And as he was already beginning to become fond of the girl, Ventus knew he could never allow that to happen.

Yet he knew he couldn't exactly kidnap her to salvage the situation (he wasn't a creepy "hero" like that, all right? In fact, he wasn't even a hero at all), or anything like that. But neither could he constantly keep an eye on her, either. Just what was he to do?

The moment Naminé curled up into a fetal position whilst she slept, he knew. And so, Ventus cast another spell for the night. But it was the first one in a while that he'd gotten a kick out of.

Laughing a little bit at his own genius, as Naminé began to seem to be kicking ass in her dream, even, Ven couldn't help thinking, "Oh, man. She's going to get a kick out of this one!"

**Naminé's PoV**

As Naminé dreamed that night, she'd felt very much as if she were spinning in place. She imagined it being something similar to how floating endlessly in space must have been like. It also reminded her a bit of the merry-go-rounds she'd gone on as a child, but she of course knew that reasoning was flawed, for one _did_move when they were on one such thing, but she wasn't truly moving now.

Also, there seemed to be... a sort of stagnant static electricity in her dream, she thought now, as she got out of bed hastily, and set to put her socks and shoes on for school.

And as she'd been turning and turning like that—as if she had been a gear trying to get into synch with another one—Naminé couldn't help but think what her dream had really been about was a key of sorts. After all, one turned a key to open the door much like the way she'd been turning. And if you couldn't get the tumblers to release just right- Well, you could get shocked, if the situation called for it.

And if she had been dreaming about electricity err... lightning (it was hard to tell now, when the memory was fading so fast and easily from her memory), could it have been that the yellow of it was also supposed to coincide with the key? Or-

"Naminé, get down here in a jiffy, 'kay, honey? I know how much you love to drink orange juice, and if you don't hurry up, you won't have enough time for a glass after you brush your teeth!"

Smiling to herself good-naturedly, as she accidentally dropped her white sock onto her flufffy, brown carpet (and therefore succeeded in getting fuzzies all over her sock), Naminé acknowledged that a lot of things might tend to go wrong in her life, but at least her dad made her life just a bit more bearable.

It was even- Even worth going to school now, just so she could drink the orange juice like he wanted her to. Her dad... he knew her so very well, and Naminé was ever glad for the fact. Even if he was probably mainly telling her not to drink orange juice after brushing your teeth, because he didn't like the taste of them together himself.

Slamming her sock onto her foot finally (and deciding that maybe all the bits of fuzz might be good, and help to keep her feet more toasty on this cold morning), Naminé ran to the rounded, dark door of her bedroom and picked up her shoes, before running down the small and brown winding staircase, that she knew would be the death of her one day.

"I'm here!" Naminé finished, as she danced under the purple awning above the doorway to her kitchen, and stumbled unceremoniously to the round table before her. She felt pretty relieved, actually, that she'd only caught her toes on the last step. Thus was the reason she cheered about her own performance to her daddy.

Of course... part of the reason she'd been so exuberant was because she'd caught him right before he had to go to work. And, as it looked like, before he could call the school and tell her she wasn't coming in. As Naminé glanced at the white—and hilariously huge, compared to mobile phones—portable telephone in Sora's hand, and then locked her eyes with him, she knew they were having a battle of wills of sorts.

Naminé, though having no problem at all in wanting to escape the torture that was school, might have easily allowed her father to pull her free from the "jackals", as he called them. But then the school board would get on his case, and threaten to send him to jail, she knew. And though Naminé knew her dad would do all that and more to do right by her, she simply couldn't risk it, and so, she decided to somewhat pretend to be Konishi and play her despair off as something else.

Pressing her purple and rectangular shaped glasses against her nose, Naminé assured her father that, "I only wanted to miss school today, because I have a test later today. But then again... I stayed up late all night studying for it, so I think—no, I know—I'll be fine now. You don't have to worry, Dad."

Even though Naminé had thought she'd done a pretty good job in trying to convince her dad of her plight, and the fact that she was looking at a boa now (so as to pretend she was thinking about wearing it to a party with the other kids later or something) should have definitely won him to her side, Sora paused in the threshold of the house looking at Naminé levelly for a long moment, before he conceded to let her have her way.

"Alright, Nam. If you're sure, I'm not gonna doubt you. You're my special youngest born, after all… Anyway, I'll see you later, okay?" Sora said, as he crossed over to where Naminé was now pouring herself some orange juice, so as to try and assure her father even more.

Startled, as she turned around and got a face of her dad in her personal bubble, Naminé accidentally grabbed the coffee that was on the counter, instead of the O.J. she'd just laid out. And when her sweet, sweet old father pressed a kiss to her temple, she almost—via her guilt—spilled the hot coffee on Konishi, who was walking right in front of them with her face averted from the dad that only seemed to have eyes for Naminé.

Not liking at all the way this was going, Naminé decided then and there that she needed to starve off the newfound awkwardness in one way or another. So, even though she hated school and didn't even have to be there for another half-an-hour (and even though she should have been allowing her father to get through the door, as he was going to be late for work, and giving him back what was left of his coffee), Naminé bid her family adieu, and headed out.

And she maybe even mussed her hair some in front of Konishi, so the girl knew that their bond was still intact, and that she could do her hair later. Maybe.

...

As it was, Naminé wasn't really paying too much attention as she walked to school slowly and looked through her drawing book every now and then. While it was true the gleaming, eggshell colored sunlight above her was very picturesque—and that she enjoyed that this was the only place in the city that had gates barring things on either side of her, instead of just pillars—Naminé's attention kept getting sucked back to the boy who'd crashed into her the day before.

Thinking back on the whole ordeal, the artist wondered if maybe she'd been being somewhat hypnotized by the music that day, despite herself. She'd thought that the fey could only control music when their songs had words to them, since words were the oldest form of magic, but could she have been wrong?

Incidentally, as Naminé held her blue art book out in front of her, and flipped to a random page of a faerie of all things, she had to wonder if she was just being ridiculous. Maybe her theory about faeries hurting them was as much a crackpot theory as Konishi seemed to think it was. After all, they'd lived in harmony with the Fair Folk since before anyone could even remember.

And weren't they pretty much their gods, and unrequited helpers now? If anything, Naminé knew she should have been thankful to the faeries, as she often thought her talent for drawing (the only saving grace she had in her life at times), had come from them, but...

She couldn't shake the feeling that there was a reason the faeries would want to hurt her people: now more than ever. And going along with that, Naminé found herself imagining that the relationship between the two had to be more strained than people liked to believe it was.

"Hehehehe. Well, you _are_ the little thinker, aren't you? Pretty smart of you to wander down one of the few paths not governed by us, but unfortunate for you that shrubbery is under my power. Now let's dance, wench!"

"Wh- who's there?!" Naminé muttered fearfully, as if she were in a bad dream, as she once again found herself clutching her hands to her heart. Whipping her hair this way and that (how strange; there was still blood in her hair, but Naminé had been sure she'd washed it out.), the girl found that she _had_, in fact, traveled much further and faster down the road than she'd even been aware of.

Stupidly looking at her drawing book for a moment—to see if maybe there was a portal in it, that easily could have explained how she'd traveled three blocks in the span of five seconds—Naminé had to wonder just why, of all places, had she ended up at what she liked to call "the upside down pine tree location".

Though it wasn't truly a pine tree, Naminé thought, its leaves had always seemed and felt very needle like to the girl. And somehow, instead of the foliage going upwards on this tree, like it would any other, this one decided to grow downward, to keep certain things obscured that Naminé had always been afraid to know of.

Everyone else, the young girl knew, had always been in love with this botany anomaly, but not her. It terrified her to no end, because...

Because she seemed to hear voices in her head whenever she was near it. Like right now, the voice was talking about shrubbery, but surely this had to be a tree, right?! No one—not even her—could get such a simple fact wrong, right?! Unless- unless it _was_ a rosebush or something. Then- that could mean-

"Hmm. You might just be smarter than I gave you credit for. This should be interesting."

Closing her eyes for a moment, and remembering everything her dad—and Konishi, even—had taught her about martial arts as a child, Naminé attempted to center herself, and only focus on where the sound was coming from.

Then, knowing it could only ever belong to the thing of her nightmares, Naminé looked up to where the trunk of this upside down tree dangled precariously close to the Milazo family's upper windows and saw a boy with golden eyes, that seemed to gleam fire, but who's hair and clothes seemed to be of ebony.

He was terrifying, Naminé realized, as he jumped down from his high perch, and almost seemed to glide down. The gleaming white canines he was displaying were particularly fear inducing, and it didn't take Naminé long to realize he was truly threatening her, and the coiled into a defensive stance accordingly.

Watching, horrified, as the boy got closer to her, Naminé couldn't understand how the tree seemed to be gusting in the direction he was walking, or how his skin seemed to glow like someone being burnt alive, though she sensed he was a sadist who would have enjoyed every minute of it.

"Now," the boy said, as he extended a hand out towards Naminé, and smiled at her every bit as fake as one of Naminé's own drawings was. "Why don't you let me see what you're made of, little girl?"

Gulping slightly, as she perceived the true intent behind the boy's words-that he'd tear her apart to see what made her tick-Naminé began taking slow steps backwards, towards the way she'd come from.

Looking around herself hastily, the blond girl meant to find anyone who might be around to help protect her, but as she found no one, she just prepared even more so to push the assailant's eye sockets into his skull, but most of all... she listened.

And it was then, as Naminé heard the voice cresting over her in echoes, that she realized who this boy was. Vanitas: the "bad boy" she'd been somewhat crushing on in her art class. The one person who'd shown her even a semblance of kindness was now aiming to rip her apart, more than his simple advance was already breaking her heart. All of that in her class, then- it had been a ruse, hadn't it?

Blinking back tears that she no longer wanted to cry anymore, Naminé punched her fist out into the air and turned it just so. What happened then was something Naminé could have never imagined herself capable of, even in her wildest dreams.

From the spaces between each one of her fingers to the next, a hot and white energy seemed to be pulled forth from her, as if tethered by a wire. Then, seeming to be in mind with what her thoughts had been, they flew higher and higher—looking like fireflies unleashing their wings against the night sky—until they eventually landed in Vanitas' eyeballs.

Naminé didn't stay to see what would happen next. Gathering up the part of her skirt, Naminé began running faster than her legs had ever carried her in her life.

As she charged down the lonely street, not wanting to take the sidewalk lest she trip over one of the cracks (and who knew? Maybe she could flag down a driver to come and help her), Naminé tried to make sense of all that was going on, and wondered if she should scream for help or not.

In the end, she decided the former thought could definitely be saved for later, and as for the latter, she should conserve whatever energy she could, while she was well ahead of Vanitas. When she eventually ran into someone, though, that would be another story entirely!

Hugging a stitch in her side, as exhaustion and lack of air finally started to win against her, Naminé decided that now more than ever would probably be a good time to go through someone's yard again. And so, going through a hole in the fence she'd once used to escape from bullies, Naminé trudged through the backyard of the Milazos', and desperately tried to get to their back door to ask for help.

It helped her case that they'd left their sprinkler on, and thus she could slide even faster towards her destination. It also helped that she was barefoot, and much of their grass sent her sprawling, anyway.

Finally reaching the large white door with its golden, lion knocker, the girl desperately began banging on it as fast and loud as she was able, shouting for help all the while. She didn't at all like the gazebo of her neighbors': standing sentry right over their small pond. It was too big and too much in shadow. Vanitas could have been easily waiting there, for his chance to snatch her, without her even-

"Naminé. Naminé! Nami, Nami! Will you stop actin' like a barbarian and drawing so much attention? Come with me, 'kay? Come with me!" Barely even aware of what was happening—or who the handsome youth at the door was, ushering her into the house and to safety—Naminé nearly flew through the threshold, as she longed to get in there and call the police, and have something substantial to hold onto, before she began crying uncontrollably.

It was only after a few seconds, that Naminé realized she was still standing on the small incline of steps that led away from the door, and that she was still partly against the door herself, keeping it open and giving Vanitas a chance he didn't deserve.

Screaming hysterically at that, Naminé leaped over the few steps that kept her from achieving true sanctuary, and screeched at the blond boy to close, lock, and deadbolt the door. She might have even told him to put his dresser against it, but she wasn't entirely sure. But as her heart started to slow down, and the boy picked her up and walked over the honeycomb floor tile, to put her in a long, pink loveseat, a few things started becoming very clear to Naminé.

One, that she was more than certain that Vanitas was a faerie, and that his attacking her when she'd been thinking about them hadn't been an accident.

Two, that there was something oddly off about herself, even (something Naminé had always suspected, but now had quantifiable proof of), as she'd blasted some sort of light at Vanitas' eyes, and had caused them to burn like liquid fire, and somewhat melt white liquid onto the ground.

And thirdly... she knew that the boy who had saved her just now, and was dabbing a cold washcloth to her head (just when had that happened?), had been the boy who'd crashed into her the other day.

At once, Naminé was irate, and sat up to give the boy a piece of her mind (thinking that everything that had happened to her lately hadn't happened until she'd met him), but when the motion seemed to make her head feel like it was under water, and her back gave out on her, she thought better of it.

"You've- you've never lived at the Milazos' before," Naminé accused weakly, as she sat up more easily this time, and stole the washcloth from the boy's hand, so she could suck on some of the water from it. She was so very hot and thirsty, and suddenly _so very_ tired.

She fought against sleep, though, as terror was ever a constant in her mind; she was very afraid of what this strange person might do to her while she was asleep. What would her father say to her right now, if he knew that Naminé had put herself in this boy's power? And what would her only sometimes sympathetic sister say, even?

As Naminé looked up into the blue eyes above her—that weren't unlike her own irises—she was shocked to find that they seemed to be sparkling with amusement of all things.

Angry, hurt, scared, and a plethora of other emotions she couldn't even begin to name at the moment, Naminé very nearly got up and walked away from the boy. Surely she'd be okay if she just used the front door and went out. As far as she was concerned, Vanitas had already given up or was waiting for her to come back through the empty path in which she'd first been trapped: something she wasn't like to do _ever_ again.

But... Naminé found she was unable to do any of these things, when the spiky-haired-blond in the weird clothes began rubbing soothing circles over her forehead, and began answering things Naminé had been wondering about for a long time.

"I don't really know where to begin filling you in on everything," the boy said sheepishly, as he rubbed the back of his head and offered Naminé a slight, and sincere smile (something she might have returned, if she were able to really move at all). "But I suppose I can begin by winning some of your trust, at least!" the boy continued chipper enough, as he crossed his arms over his chest. It was strange to Naminé how that gesture being done by anyone else would have made them look angry or standoffish, but for this boy, it made him seem all the more approachable somehow.

"First off, you're right about a lot of the fey. They've deluded you humans for too long, and they're trying to use you for something that just sucks. And Vanitas... well, Vanitas has always been a piece of work, and now that you know, he-

"Anyway, you seem to have taught him a lesson well enough with the powers I gave you, Miss Naminé. Well done!" the boy smiled with the pride that someone might have awarded their child. Or worse, Naminé thought with rising horror, their significant other.

Still, his bright smile was a nice enough thing to look at, she supposed. Especially after the darkness she'd just escaped from.

"Wait!" Naminé exclaimed, as she sat up the slightest bit, and some of the fog from her head began clearing up. "Are you saying- Child-Man... are you saying what I did to Vanitas was from you?"

Scratching her head in thought, just as the boy's outraged face made itself known in her mind's eye, Naminé had to wonder when she'd ever acted silly enough to call someone such a name. Especially someone helping her out, but the way he talked was decidedly childish, so…

But then again, as Naminé looked at this person now, as something seemed to harden in his eyes, she realized that perhaps she'd missed something, and maybe she should have been feeling that fearfully, as well. Who knew? Maybe she was actually younger than the boy, then.

And wait just a minute! Was that maid- was she frozen in place?! Naminé wondered in horror, as she looked over the side of the couch she was on, and to the huge wardrobe before her that seemed more like a room than anything else.

"Uhh, you've got that right, Miss. Anyway, I'm going to give you some tea to take the edge off your fear, and then I'll take you home, 'kay? My name is Ventus, by the way."

"Wait- What are you?!" Naminé asked, just as the boy was turning around, and went to what she presumed to be the kitchen for his tea.

Watching his quick departure with a resigned set to her face, Naminé acknowledged that there was a lot she wasn't being told, but of what he_had_ informed her of... she was so very happy. So she _wasn't_ a freak or monster, then.

Though Naminé reckoned she would still want to exact revenge on Vanitas if she could have it (by whatever means necessary), it was a much-needed relief to know that her magical prowess hadn't come from her. And perhaps even more gratifying: Naminé now had some proof that the faeries were as heinous as she'd recently come to believe.

Settling into her seat more comfortably, and with a smug smile on her face, Naminé thought she could easily come to like this Ventus person, even if he had carelessly knocked her down the other day.

Except... why on earth did he have powers, and seem to have excess skin jutting from his skin, where Naminé herself had a gaping hole? The excess skin on Ven's skin almost looked sharp to the touch, too. Like, if he ever got close to kiss someone, he'd puncture a hole in there-

Suddenly feeling as though ice had been poured onto her, when she'd already been freezing to death, Naminé found herself realizing that the powers she'd seen Ventus use couldn't have come from nowhere. And since Naminé knew very few humans who could use magic... that only left one option, didn't it?

He was a faerie! The very creature that he'd just admitted had terrible motives for humans! The very creature that had just attacked her! And how did she even know that this wasn't all a trick, and that Ventus might actually _be_ Vanitas?!

Their names did sound very similar, Naminé realized now. And if he'd failed in getting what he wanted from her via forceful methods, had he found another way to do so? If the hole in her throat was anything to go by, Naminé knew she'd been hurt by someone or something once, and she was _not_going to get hurt again!

So hastily climbing up the Milazos' stairs, Naminé looked for an exit neither Ventus and Vanitas would expect her to escape from, and she found it. Opening a small window in what looked to be a little girl's princess room, Naminé slid down a railing on the side of the house, and once again took off into a run—her tears being left in the wind, and even on the ground, behind her.


	2. Chapter 2: Peanut Butter Trap

**Author's Note: Warning, where this story before was only rated "T", with this chapter it is most DEFINITELY now rated "M".**

**If I continue this story, I don't know if the rest of the chapters will be like this, but I urge everyone to proceed here with caution.**

**The last part (not so much the first part) has a LOT of graphic violence, language, and sexual content. Non-con stuff, too. Like, it's _really_, _really_ bad. Especially for my usual style of writing. Seriously.**

**And I HATE doing that kind of stuff (especially since I don't know if I even want to continue this story after this, and it's just AWFUL leaving it here), but it's unfortunately needed to show what a creep/monster Vanitas is. Ugh.**

**Still… I feel like I'd read too many Paradise Avenger stories while writing this or something. LOL. (though I do love that girl and her stories, to death). So, yeah. Definitely proceed with cautions, and if you're younger than eighteen, please leave this page now.**

**Like, in some ways I don't even know if I should post this—as there are MAJOR parts I don't like here, things I wish I'd done differently, etcetera—but I figured I might as well finally post at least this chapter, since I finished it years ago, and give y'all something? IDK.**

**And, yes. I DID write this years ago, so if there are any mistakes (or this is worse than my current writing), that's probably why. Sorry**

**Yikes.**

…**:(**

**I'm going to go write about fluffy bunnies and rainbows now. Yes, that sounds LOVELY (as I mostly usually write that kinda stuff), and like it'll be much better for my sanity:)**

**Chapter Two: Peanut Butter Trap**

**Naminé's PoV**

Though Naminé had very much wanted to fill her family in on what had happened to her—and take refuges in their arms, at the very least-she'd found that the simple prospect of telling them what she had learned was to be too much to handle. Who was to say they'd believe her, anyway?

And after Ventus—Vanitas—had lured her into a false serenity so easily, Naminé found that she wasn't putting anything past the faeries. She was still painfully unaware of what they wanted with her, after all.

And maybe- maybe they were actually aiming for her to freak out for some obscure reason.

And for that reason alone, the blonde decided that she wouldn't give the fey the luxury. She would pretend like nothing had happened, and find other ways to deal with her impending problems.

Right now, for instance, Naminé was standing outside her mother's very large and very pink room.

And as she looked into the round alcove before her, she found that she had to admit that it was a bit surprising there weren't roses covering it, the way that red flowers seemed to litter every other available piece of her mom's study.

Naminé had never been exactly close with her mother—perhaps because the thorns on roses that the woman loved so much had terrified Naminé even as a child—but now she knew the only person who could help her out of this situation would be none other than her mother.

So knocking quietly. And almost wishing that her mom wouldn't hear her (but not really), Naminé prepared to offer herself up on a silver platter, and-

"You don't have to hide, Naminé. Come on in and tell me what's on your mind, would you? I haven't got all day, dear."

Standing where her hand had been half-extended to turn the light switch off (as that was often the only way she could ever get Jane's attention, if she was knee-deep in one of her findings), Naminé found she was somewhat astonished that her mother had known it was she, without even having looked.

Granted, she'd probably figured it out by knowing neither Konishi, nor Naminé's father, would act in such the way that Naminé herself had been.

But still... though Naminé knew that it all meant nothing, and she needed to calm down before she gave Vanitas the possible hysterical antidote he was looking for, the girl was struck in realizing that this moment was the first in which her mother had ever seemed to know her well.

It was...uplifting, really, Naminé reflected, as she eyed the tawny gaze that was looking at her from behind a paper—hands resting on a cluttered desk.

Maybe, then... maybe this was a sign that everything would go the way Naminé wanted it to, then? And that-

Stopping that thought right there, the blonde opted to speak while she still had her mother's attention, rather than drive herself sane from the internal chatter going on in her own head.

"Mother… I- I want to move away from this place. It's been terrible for me all the way through, and I fear it's dangerous for me here, as well," Naminé said with a sudden expel of breath, as she looked at anywhere but at her mom, and tried not to feel bad that she was attempting to move her family away from a place that they loved.

And when Naminé looked back on the moment, three years in the future, she would be proud about how she'd acted to try and save her family.

But presently... the albino girl could only squirm under Jane's stare, and feel very much like the worm she'd always thought herself to be. Where was her comforting etch-a-sketch when she needed it?!

Naminé was sure that... that her mother was going to say no.

However, there was something in the older woman's eyes that gave the small girl a slight pause: something she hadn't seen there before.

And deciding it would be best to leave then, when Jane was still in shock from her plea, Naminé turned around and went back out the way she'd come. She didn't need to see her mother's disappointment in her, thank you very much, and really...

She supposed she should have known all along what the answer was going to be.

Still... she'd known that she'd had to try, and for that Naminé didn't regret her transgression one bit.

Nope. Not a bit. She had needed to place all of her cards down onto the table, after all.

And- perhaps while she was at it, she should give Ventus another chance?

Nodding to herself for that thought, and heading into Konishi's room—where the girl brushed Naminé's hair almost with the rhythm of her thoughts, Naminé decided that she wasn't going to let Ventus observe her, after all.

But… she was very capable of spying on him.

...

"Is that-" Naminé began saying the next day of school, as she spilled out into the safety of the grounds, but only to see something troubling again.

Thankfully, it wasn't Vanitas or any of the magic he'd used to try and trap Naminé with before (nor was it Ventus), but it was something the artist hadn't thought to see at all in this millennia.

Spread out like double-sided tape in front of her, was some sort of dirt roadway that stretched up and up and up, until Naminé couldn't see it anymore.

And though it was true she wasn't foolish enough to think it went up at _exactly _a ninety-degree angle (as that was impossible), Naminé didn't doubt that whoever raced along the thing was as bold as they were stupid.

Sure, this was a once in a lifetime thing, that Nami and her friends had never thought they'd get to see in their lifetime…

But: Naminé had before read in textbooks about how the magnetism adopted for the trial didn't always keep humans from falling to their death.

"Olette, is that really the former road of the gods?" Naminé questioned her brunette friend, while she had the foresight to put a book over her head, so as to shield it from the clumps of dirt that were surely going to begin raining down on top of her.

Actually, as Naminé thought about it, she wondered if it wouldn't be a good idea to go and hide from this event completely—under one of the trees in the courtyard, leading off from the school's gazebo (not that Naminé had recanted her wariness about gazebos, though).

Turning towards Naminé slowly—and seeming to blink her eyes, as if she was coming out of a long dream (not that Naminé really cared or was surprised by the lack of attention awarded her: she was like a ghost to most everyone), Olette pointed upwards to just where the sun jutted up over the winding rail above them, and where many students were sitting on the roof, getting ready to watch the show.

Huh… all of this probably meant there wouldn't be any classes today, didn't it?, Naminé pondered. And though she _was_ glad to be part of a rare event with her people for once, she was also a little sad for the fact. What if this show—that had maybe formerly been for the gods—ended up getting gory fast?

And sighing at her own thoughts and her ridiculousness, Naminé decided that she_ really_ needed to find an outlet to hide away from evil such things, and to find a way to mask her newfound fears.

She knew, that if she really wanted to, she probably could have told Konishi about Ven, when they had their hair brushing time and everything. But telling the quizzical girl about the fey boy didn't seem to sit to well in Naminé's mind for some reason.

"I don't know if you should really call this street one of the gods', Miss," Olette exclaimed, as she pointed upwards again, and Naminé truly saw what the younger girl had been pointing out all along: that students decked out as faeries.

And as dread started to grab hold of Naminé again—and perhaps this time to never even dream of letting her go—the blonde girl found she very much wanted to get up and run away, like she had before (like she always had, she supposed).

But instead… Naminé found herself rooted to the spot beneath the school building—bathed in an eerie yellow-green glow—as Olette continued to explain her thoughts in a scratchy voice:

"I mean, saying such things is disrespectful towards the fey that govern over us now, don't you think? I'm not sure there even _are_ any gods. It seems to me that it's always been faeries that were around doing things, so we should call this staged event by _that_, and respect what we _do_ know. Do you get where I'm coming from, Miss Naminé?"

In truth, the recently attacked girl couldn't understand or sympathize with what Olette was saying at _all_. She even wanted to scream at her friend to open up her eyes, and to see what she herself knew, even through flawed and missing memories.

Folding her hands over her lap and beginning to play with them, Naminé planned to do just that, but she stopped herself, as Olette continued on with, "I fear most of the teachers disagree on me with this point, though. Uhh... Miss Naminé?" Olette questioned, in the same moment that Naminé had the benefit of seeing a yellow, beaded hand—Olette's—reach out to her before everything became less coherent. "Miss Naminé!"

Suddenly feeling tipsy on her feet, and staggering around as if she were drunk, Naminé acknowledged that Olette _did_ make a fair point, and that maybe she'd been too hopeful and cruel to so easily dismiss her friend before.

After all, though Naminé's artistic side _longed_ to paint pictures of things and places that had probably never even been for the sake of creativity, Olette cut right to the heart of the matter, about how she thought everything had been as it was now all along. And- Faeries...

It would make sense for them to be the ones behind the humans' existence and lives, wouldn't it? The whole reason this climbing challenge even took place, was because it was an initiative to see who was powerful enough (or stupid enough) to try to make the trek to the Fair Folk's upper dungeons.

And while Naminé wasn't entirely sure she believed Olette's thoughts about how today's celebration—for a powerful race that had crashed down onto Earth, had chosen to give it life—was solely through the faeries, Naminé could easily imagine why everyone would want it to be that way.

If there really were the gods of old that had created this world, and they were even more powerful and ancient than the fey, even, then where were they now? And if there were gods… couldn't even they become their greatest rivals and enemies, even more than the winged creatures had become?

Struck with a sudden thought that had her literally shivering in her boots, and trying her best not to clamp her quivering teeth down on her hand where it rested over her lips, Naminé remembered a crucial detail to this entire thing that she had forgotten.

This Trial… it wasn't supposed to happen into the Solstice, and that wouldn't come up for a while. So maybe… had Vanitas and Ventus actually set this up to scope her out, for whatever reason?

What if—what if _they_ wanted her to take place in this ludicrous trial, and to go to the faeries' equivalent of hell? If so, did that mean they would now come out of the darkness and try to force her hand through empowered shrubbery and wind again?

Gulping loudly, Naminé decided she couldn't handle such a thing again. She would rather die first, than to give them what they wanted.

"Miss Naminé, please calm down," Olette said worryingly, as she stroked up and down the sobbing Naminé's arms, seemingly trying to warm her now frigid temperature up.

Smiling slightly, despite herself, and coming back to the sanity that she had always so longed for, Naminé met Olette with a smile of her own, and wondered if...

Wondered if this younger girl might succeed to become her first friend ever.

If the way that Olette was now helping Naminé to take a calmly seat down, atop the blanket she must have gone back to her house for earlier (no doubt having figured out that there was going to be no class before the blonde had), Naminé thought the answer to that could very well be "yes".

And, oh! Was that peanut butter on a spoon that Olette was holding out for Naminé now? That was nice. So very nice! Naminé wondered- wondered if Olette had found out her weakness for the stuff from that one day in chemistry, when she'd eaten the peanut butter they'd crushed out of peanuts, after being told not t-

"I know you have a lot of doubt about things, and maybe even some emotional problems, Naminé. And though we only really know each other from being lab partners... Well, I feel that you're a good comrade and a good person, Naminé, and I want to help you if I can. So, please: don't feel alone anymore. I think we both could use friends, actually. So let me be yours, okay? Allow me to help you bare your burdens."

To that, Naminé could only hug her new friend tighter than she ever had anyone before, and promise she'd find Olette's own favorite food to help her out of a panic attack someday.

It was also for that reason that Naminé would bring her own peanut butter jar to Olette's later that night, when they hung out; she wanted to try to compensate for something and a friendship she couldn't begin to understand.

And she had no idea at all that things would go to hell for her very, very soon.

Still… in that one moment, Naminé was truly happy, and safe from the world, as she sat beside her friend.

She smiled a true smile that she hadn't even known she was capable of, after having lost her etch-a-sketch. And yet… her she was beaming all the same.

Later on, as the sun set down on the two girls—signaling the end of the weird school day for them—Naminé leaned her head atop Olette's shoulder, and thought that somehow, despite everything, she'd had a good time, watching the people all around her aim for immortality.

…

Naminé had ended up starting to go to Olette's every Friday night, after the day the ramp had appeared at the school building.

And as the challenge hadn't yet disappeared, her visits with Olette served as a way for Naminé to get away from her worried thoughts and her family, and to revel in something she'd never thought she'd have: a friend.

That wasn't to say, though, that Naminé didn't like the visits with Olette by themselves. In fact, she'd found that her lab partner was very sweet, vivacious, and just plain fun to be around.

How Naminé wished she could take a leaf from her book, and learn to be more outgoing...

Anyway, every night that the girls hung out, one of them was sworn to bring a peanut butter treat along, as a staple.

It was an enjoyable idea that really had become their thing; and though Naminé had once worried that peanut butter would be _all_she and Olette had to talk about, it hadn't ended up that way at all.

But it still _had_ become a sacred ritual to Naminé. And though she knew she was probably taking it way too seriously (she'd always had the problem of valuing things—things that most people wouldn't think twice about—way too much), she didn't want there to ever be a time when they couldn't get together like this, and-

"What're you looking at over there, Nam?" Olette questioned, interrupting the blonde's thoughts entirely, as she strode over from the twin-sized bed on her side of the room, and went over to Naminé's decidedly more blue area.

As it turned out, Olette's family owned a bed and breakfast, that they all actually lived at and operated themselves.

Though their business probably wasn't always the best (if the cues that Olette had given Naminé lately were any indication), they seemed to get on just fine for the most part.

And honestly... Naminé couldn't say she disliked the idea of being able to stay in a spacious hotel room, if she ever needed to escape from home.

However, knowing these things were not what Olette should hear in the slightest (as Naminé knew she couldn't fill Olette on what was going on, anymore than she'd been able to her family, and because she didn't want her friend to think she was using her), Naminé turned around to face Olette with a smile and peanut butter plastered onto her, something she'd done to fabricate a lie when the girl in orange hadn't been looking.

And idly, Naminé wondered if maybe she should have also put breadcrumbs between her teeth to help sell the story, that she was okay and just overly snacking.

"Y'know, girl, I'm not one to judge, but you've got peanut butter all over your face, and it kinda looks like it's freckles."

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe they are just freckles you're seeing?" Naminé tried a different approach, desperately trying to get Olette distracted from the things she really didn't want to talk about.

In truth, though, Nami knew that the few dabs of peanut butter on her face weren't spacious at all, and nor could they be considered freckles in the least.

But hey—Naminé thought, as she headed to the wash area in order to clear some of the more obvious smudges off her face—maybe she'd be able to find a way to pull the ginger look of freckles off after all, seeing as how she'd recently added red to her hair to keep Ven and Vanitas off her tail. You never knew.

And… as a result of Naminé's new, braided hairstyle, she ended up feeling very pretty and sure of herself for a change. In fact, she could almost even fool herself into thinking she _had_ been a normal girl all along, and had just needed to be woken up to the fact.

Either that... or maybe what she feared about herself with the faeries was true, and she'd somehow tapped into a magic that strengthened her looks.

And if that was true... Naminé knew it was most likely a very, very bad thing. Especially if she ever let Konishi style her hair again, as she had a gigantic vendetta against the fey, and Naminé feared that she was turning into on-

"Haha, very funny, you freckle-wanter, you," Olette laughed not without humor, as she placed her hands onto her hips and enunciated each "ha", whilst she looked at her blonde friend.

Smiling slightly to herself, Naminé found herself wondering when the heck Olette had gotten so brazen. It was a nice change, though, she amended internally; nodding to herself at the thought.

"Anyway, go ahead and clean your whole face up now, Nam; you're not fooling everyone. And also, I know you've pretty much claimed that bed as your own whenever you're over here, _but_ you probably shouldn't get peanut butter on it in case we have to rent it out. Sorry." Olette explained kindly, with a wave of her hand, as she crossed over back to her side of the room, where a series of dark brown cabinets (that Naminé had once assumed held a TV inside of them) were splayed out in front of her.

"So, anyway… What are you looking at, Olette?" Naminé questioned, finally succeeding in getting the spread off of her face; she then walked over to where Olette was stationed in front of her laptop—promising to make sure she'd get any PB she might have accidentally gotten on her bed off in the morning.

Leaning over Olette's shoulder, and squinting her eyes the slightest bit to see better, Naminé tried to move in a way that allowed her to better see the blurred laptop, but didn't disrupt Olette from whatever it was she doing.

When she noticed exactly what it was that Olette was looking at, though, Naminé had to wonder if maybe- maybe Olette was a spy, who'd been sent in by Vanitas to infiltrate something from her.

She definitely seemed to have an idea as to what some of Naminé's innermost thoughts were (even without her having told her), if what she was typing onto the screen was any indication.

Then, happening so fast that Naminé thought maybe she'd imagined, or that it had only been a lightning bolt, the screen preceded to turn to white noise for the slightest bit. And if that wasn't creepy enough, it then turned to a blank page with number pattern after number pattern, before going off into the dreaded Green Screen that the blonde had once heard horror stories about.

It was- too much to take in. Too much like... what Naminé seen on her own computer screen, the first day she'd come to Europe.

Not liking at all, or how Olette seemed to be becoming _another_ assailant in her life, without even seeming to realize or care about it, Naminé began shaking the other girl by the shoulders. She even snapped a lot more than she'd intended, when she said, "Olette, what are you doing? Get away from that thing! Don't you know it's a virus?! It'll destroy your computer, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, Naminé," Olette admonished, as she tore Naminé away from her, and met her with a look that she'd hoped she'd never seen on Olette's face (at least not so soon): disdain.

And really, Naminé knew she had every reason to be upset. She'd just acted like a common bully, and that was completely out of character for she who was meek, and had always been bullied, but...

All this stuff with Vanitas and Ven was really beginning to fringe on her sanity, Naminé feared. Either that, or the two things she'd seen on the computer had affected _her_ in someway.

Sighing resignedly, as she went slack against, Naminé decided that if she was going to be forced to become a fey now or something, it'd be no more than what she deserved, for how she'd just acted.

If only a giant hole in the ground could have come up to swallow her. And if not that, if she were capable of redoing the last few moments of her life again, Naminé thought wishfully.

"I've never seen you be this assertive before, Nami," Olette gasped, moving to once again place her arms around her anxious friend (how Naminé hated herself for being weak and needing it).

"And in some ways, that's really a breath of fresh air. However," Olette muttered, with a look in her eyes that made the green there look poisonous, but as if she thought Naminé was really the one with the potential for acidic thoughts. "I think you should try and get a handle on yourself some. You seem a bit...off."

And somehow, it was via Olette's words about how she was acting weird, and how she was mostly _proud _of the fact, that Naminé realized maybe she fine, after all, and was just learning to stand up for herself some?

Yeah! Maybe she was just jumping the gun, and all of the fears she'd been having would turn up being all right? Naminé wondered hopefully, almost daring to reach up and peck her dear friend on the cheek for her comfort, but then quickly thinking better of it.

But still... some stress-relieving brownies, covered with peanut butter, were starting to sound very good to Naminé right now.

And she wasn't foolish enough to not realize the stuff had become a bit of an addiction of hers, but… if it made some sense of things, and made her feel better, in the crazy and messed up world she'd been recently thrown into, why even worry about it?

And after what Ven (because she was now almost certain he and Vanitas were one in the same) had put her through, she-

Cutting that thought off right then and there, as she didn't want it to ruin her night, Naminé pulled away from her friend, headed towards the door, and turned around, saying, "I'm going to go downstairs and get some brownies for us. Does that sound good to you, Olette? And you said more peanut butter's on the counter, right? I'll be sure to coat the sugary goodness with a fine batch of the stuff. After that, I'll be right back -"

"Actually, when I was downstairs a minute ago to get my phone charger, it looked like the stuff had disappeared. Or maybe we just went through it all without realizing it. Sorry, Naminé. If you want, though, you can go down and get some plates for us. That would help things a lot! And meanwhile, I promise that next week I'll make more brownies, and we can put that topping on them then, okay?"

"Right-" Naminé uttered, just before her breath hitched in her throat. She was starting to have a suspicion, and a scary and evil one at that. Had the faeries—in realizing she wouldn't be drawn to their test for immortality—stolen her favorite thing in the world to get her to separate from her friend? She had to make sure.

Adrenaline singing her veins, and making her feel much braver than she actually was, Naminé flew past Olette without another word, and headed through the dimly lit corridor, outside the hotel room, until she came in contact with the elevator at the end of the hall.

Throwing herself into it, the way one might jump into a pool (as Naminé feared that maybe Vanitas meant to leave her trapped on this floor forever, or something like that), Naminé crashed through the metal doors so hard, that she slammed into the back wall of the shaft—nearly breaking her elbow on impact, she'd wager.

And was it her... or had she elicited those sparks from within herself again? Welp, that was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

Quickly jabbing the first floor button in front of her, Naminé stood against the back of the elevator—as it went down its appointed path—and watched as the pale light from the moon seemed to trail her through the large windows.

Finally, and just when the oppressive moon from outside chose to dart behind a cloud, the elevator doors slung open, and Naminé tiptoed outside.

Directly in front of the girl was the breakfast area for the guests, Naminé knew, but she wasn't entirely sure she knew where the actual kitchen itself was—as she'd only ever gotten snacks from the guest's lodge to take back up to Olette.

She had no idea where the plates Olette had asked of her were (or the missing peanut butter for that matter, that had to be with it), but she knew she had to find them—and Vanitas, who was undoubtedly in the kitchenette—whatever the cost.

After all, it wasn't just her life that was on the line at the moment, but rather Olette's as well. And Naminé knew she would do whatever it took, and then some, to protect the only person who had ever been kind to her like this.

The only question that remained be answered, then, was just how she was going to fare against the golden-eyed-man. Naminé knew that she seemed to contain some kind of power, but… would it be enough?

Shaking her head at her own dismissive thoughts about her own strength, Naminé decided that first and foremost she needed to find the kitchen, before she worried about anything else.

Was it maybe at the back wall there, where a thing of apples was stationed, and a set of bathrooms jutted out of the space?

Or was it to the right, where the check-in area and entrance to the establishment were?

Cursing herself for not having asked Olette before going off on this suicide mission, Naminé closed her eyes—deciding to try and use her senses to ferret the answer out—and she found herself suddenly feeling very strongly, that the door was behind the check-in counter to her right.

And as Naminé ever so slightly began tiptoeing towards her suspected area, she wondered if maybe she ought to try and call the police to come and help her out. But what could they even do against the Fair Folk, anyway?

Plus, if she ended up being wrong about all of this, Nami highly doubted that any officer would be too happy about her freaking out over a missing jar of peanut butter of all things… she also didn't want to get carted away for being a PB&amp;J lover, which was a real possibility.

So deciding that things would out for the best if she went alone, she slightly began pushing the wide, wooden white door open, and edging her way in, and-

And she was then suddenly pulled away from it, by a gentle yet firm touch.

Breathing in deeply, while she prepared to turn around (all ready knowing who was behind her, since Olette would have said something by now), Naminé came face to face with none other than Ventus.

And she would have thought that the dark of the night would have blurred his features, and dulled his light the way it did anyone else—as there wasn't a lot of fluorescence nearby—and yet...

Somehow, Ventus' hair looked even more golden in the current hue; and even his eyes looked a deeper, and even more emotional blue. He- he himself was beautiful…

_But_, Naminé quickly reminded herself that Ven was a faerie, and he very easily could have been using magic to heighten his looks to sway her decisions, but somehow... she doubted that was what was happening at all.

In every moment since she'd met Ventus, Naminé couldn't really recall him using his magic once. In fact, it was almost as if... as if he was intentionally shying away from it, for whatever reason.

She did remember when they'd first met, though, and the wind had reacted to him of its own accord… And whatever he'd done to give her the power of the mystic, of course.

Although... there was a nagging voice in the back of Naminé's head, telling her that she'd never actually been normal, but she quickly shut the thing up.

"I shouldn't have ever doubted you, Mr. Ventus," Naminé said slowly and assuredly, as an epiphany of sorts placed itself squarely on her shoulders. For what was the boy doing, as he stood before her, but holding a jar of nutella in his hands for her?

In Naminé's mind, this was his way of affirming he hadn't stolen the peanut butter (so she knew that she could trust him), but he was offering the similar substance to her as a peace offering.

It was an oddly sweet thing to do, she found, and yet... so horrifying, to realize what might have happened to her if she'd gone ahead into the kitchen.

Leaning against Ven, as she felt the slightest bit paranoid (though not as terrified as before, thankfully), she whispered to him ever so quietly, "Vanitas... he's in the kitchen, isn't he? He was waiting for me in there, with- with a ton of knives, so that he might-"

And at once, as Ven began pulling away from Naminé as if he'd been burned, her first reaction was to cling onto him even tighter, and to pray that he wouldn't leave her alone to face her destiny.

And it was only when he let her continue to grab onto him—but this time, with the jar of nutella fit securely into her hand—that Naminé realized that that was what he'd wanted all along. He hadn't been bothered by her, and nor was he planning to leave her. He just hadn't wanted his gift to her to be left behind, as they made their mistake?

Blinking at him stupidly then, Naminé thought that maybe more than anything, maybe Ven was trying to distract her from going into the kitchen, and yet...

"There you go, Miss Nami!" Ven finally spoke—smiling at her completely chipper like, and reminding the blonde a bit of how she'd falsely behaved with Olette earlier. Though she rather doubted her teeth had glistened as much during her own lie, as his seemed to now. "I'm sure this'll make you feel better about... well, let's just hope it makes you feel better," he ended cryptically.

And as Ven ever tried for an eye roll at her, she also suspected that he was saying maybe the gift of nutella would stop her from being so irrational?

But being all serious again, as he placed one of his hands over Nami's own, Ven asked her, "You have a friend that's here, right? I'm going to go with you to get her, and then we're gettin' the heck out of here. Yer not goin' to see Vanitas today. No sir. And oh, let me see your arm."

Baffled by Ven's request, Naminé thought about turning him down flat—she didn't want him to change her, or give her more magic—but she also knew that she was just wasting time that they could be using to escape with Olette. Ven wasn't one to be easily swayed, either, Naminé thought, scowling. And it was for that reason alone that she conceded to him. Nothing else. Nothing else at all…

However, instead of using his own abilities to hurt her in any way, Ven instead seemed to want to heal her injured arm from before, as he placed his own bleeding one atop her own (how in the world hadn't she realized he wasn't hurt before?, Nami wondered, dazed) and then used magic to cleanse her, which in turn cured him.

Somehow... Naminé felt there was something very intimate about the gesture that Ven had just initiated with her, but she bit her tongue against the plethora of questions she had as she allowed the boy to ruffle her hair, before they both started running towards the elevator like a rocket.

On her run to Olette's room (that later Naminé would barely even remember, let alone her ride in the elevator, or the run _to_ that), Naminé counted her blessings that at least _some_ things were going smoothly for her.

She was just so, _so_ very glad that Olette's parents had had to leave town for the weekend, and that she and Ventus wouldn't have to worry about also saving them.

As powerful as Naminé thought Ventus surely was (and her too, she supposed), she knew there was no way the could get past Vanitas, with five people trying to evade him, and three of them being massively confused about it all.

It was going to be hard enough to convince Olette, Naminé knew, and even harder still to keep her safe.

Not only was Olette not in tune with the situation at all, but also, Naminé doubted that Ven could heal the brunette the way that he just had her, even if he needed to. And if things went the worst...

Not even wanting to finish that thought, Naminé pushed through Olette's room like a hurricane might have, and went over to where the girl was still on her laptop, before she hoisted her up into her arms.

Really, it was a miracle she could even carry the girl (and the nutella) at all, Naminé realized (unless Ven had secretly given her super strength, despite what she'd wanted), but she had known it would be the most effective way to make sure that Olette would come with her, without taking too long in trying to convince her.

"Naminé, what are you doing?" Olette protested immediately, as the trio once again headed for the elevators (and Naminé tried to drown out the pain of Olette's fists pounding against her back).

"Put me down! I thought I told you to _stop_ acting off!" the girl growled, with real venom in her tone, as she then kicked, tugged, and grabbed at Naminé's face, all in an attempt to be set free.

Blinking back the tears that were stinging to her eyes—as Naminé knew that she might well be ruining her friendship with Olette forever for this—Naminé turned her body into a somewhat fetal position, and wasn't surprised at all, when golden light began dancing in front of her.

Instead of her powers going out of her control this time, though, Naminé was able to use her abilities to reach out, stop time, and slide on a spell—like one might slide on a glove—that was at the edge of her consciousness.

When the feel of the power fit snugly to her being—or more accurately: when Naminé could feel the spell inside her heart—the girl turned to face Olette with one last fake smile—her blonde tendrils brushing against Olette's own brown ones as she did so—and she muttered the one word she needed. "Sleep".

At that, a twirling and spinning bright light cascaded with Olette's face, until she went slack against the albino girl (but not before she'd looked at Naminé with fear and betrayal written on her face), and therefore became a much better travel companion.

She _was_ heavier this way, but Naminé knew she'd just have to make do; this was- This was for the best, despite what her conscience dictated of her, even if... even if she never got the chance to explain, and Olette ended up always fearful of her, Nami knew she'd always choose saving someone over forsaking them. Always.

"Nami, you ready?" asked the blond boy, as he began leaning her and Olette towards the front of the hotel on the first floor again, which was conveniently right where Vanitas happened to be lying in wait.

There was an almost childlike wonder to his expression as he noted Olette in her arms, Naminé noted dryly.

But whether he was peering at Olette in such a way because he was interested in her—or because he was wondering about how someone like Naminé had served to knock her friend out—she didn't know.

And frankly, Naminé didn't even really want to know.

Balling her hands into fists—and she made sure that her _arms_ held tighter to Olette for that—Naminé found that despite Ventus having just healed her hand again, it seemed to be smarting again.

Hmm… what did that mean? And did that mean that Ven's own arm was starting to worsen again?

Buuuut, that question would just have to be answered another time, for it was at that moment that Vanitas—most likely bored from waiting inside the kitchen—came crashing through the door's window, landed on his feet like a gymnast would have, and smiled devilishly at Naminé.

Cursing under her breath, Naminé knew that any chance they'd had at evading Vanitas had just slipped out the window. Literally. And now he could even see a still knocked-out Olette and start targeting her, if he so pleased.

Could this day get any worse?! Naminé wondered, as she flipped Vanitas the bird for all he'd put her and her loved ones through. He had the gall to smirk at that.

"Mister Ventus, I hate to ask this, but is there a way you can distract your brethren, while I get Olette out of-"

Pausing in her speech, when she noted that Ven wasn't doing anything she'd specified for him to do, Naminé noted aghast that there was a certain look on Ven's face. And was that-

Was that blood staining his heart?!

Hastily striding over to him at once—and pretty much dragging Olette at this point—Naminé for once paid no heed to the strange appendage he seemed to have at his neck (the one that looked as though it had put a hole into her own throat), and she demanded breathlessly, as she peered into his glowing eyes, "You'd been fighting, before all of this tonight, hadn't you?! You're hurt! And I- Here. You watch over Olette and heal yourself. I- I can take care of myself just fine for a moment."

After Naminé had gently laid Olette by Ventus' side, where he could dutifully watch over her, Naminé found that she was very seriously debating turning herself into Vanitas, as Naminé knew well that Ven and Olette would have a much better chance of getting away from him without her added weight.

So was that why, then, she'd taken to the task at hand so well, and was thinking of her two friends instead of herself? Had bravery, as well as the desire to do right, finally been ignited in her?

Or was she just looking for an honorable suicide? Was she looking for an escape? A way to not have to carry Olette, even?

Not liking at all where her thoughts were going—and deciding it would probably be best to keep from sacrificing herself unless she had to, and knew what her motives for doing so were—Naminé began walking over to where Vanitas dutifully waited for her, and she prepared to do something, anything, to wipe the smirk off of his face.

And not surprising in the least, Naminé could see that he really _did_ have the jar of PB sitting beside him. So he had grabbed hold of it to lure her into this trap, hadn't he?

And what was even more surprising, was that he seemed to have used magic to get the nutella she'd been carrying out of her hands, too. The masked boy even went as far as to push the bottom of the glass plate covering his face up, so that he could lick the stuff off of one of his fingers. And in doing so, he defiled the gift that his brother had just so kindly given her.

The hairs on the back of Naminé's neck stood up, and every sound she heard—of a tree hitting a window outside, or even Olette's breathing and Ven's soft exhales of pain as he tried to heal himself—made her tense up like a bow string. Why was- why was Vanitas so sure she'd give herself up? Why wasn't he doing anything, but standing over there smugly, like he were the cat that had gotten the canary. She just couldn't figure the monster out at all!

And as if an answer to her thoughts, Naminé felt a yank on her hair so tight, that she felt like someone was trying to wrench her head from her shoulders with their grasp. And she knew for sure some of her hair was surely being pulled out, as blood traveled down from her scalp, to land ironically on the same place she and Ven had mixed blood at earlier.

And then if that wasn't bad enough, Naminé was suddenly being thrown like a rag doll, against the wall on the far side of the room, where a small desk holding flowers had been at.

All during her attack and flight, Naminé had hoped and prayed that Olette or Ven would take note, and come to her aid (even though she loathed how easily she'd given up her unselfish and courageous outlook by wishing so).

But Olette was still very much asleep, and Ven didn't seem to be drifting in and out of consciousness; no doubt, he was even too weak to note her pain like he had before, and-

Gasping in shock, and in the greatest fear she'd know since—wait, when had she known fear like this before?—since when _that_ happened, Naminé felt the darkness to Ventus' light climbing on top of her battered and bruised body, and forcing her to look up at him, in a motion that Naminé thought might very well make her jaw snap.

As she reluctantly looked at the flames in Vanitas' eyes, that seemed to want to pull her into their hell, Naminé knew that her teeth were once again chattering, from where fear real to her like a livewire might in that moment.

And Naminé _prayed_, that Vanitas would get close enough to her, so that she could bite him in retaliation.

Unfortunately for Naminé, though, Vanitas didn't seem to be preparing to do anything that could be considered good for her. He placed his knee atop her windpipe, crushing it slowly and painfully with his sheer weight, and Naminé feared the end for her had finally come… If only she could have gone in a better, more heroic, and more assured way, though, Nami thought desperately.

Seeming to see the thoughts turning like gears behind her head, Vanitas laughed in the girl's face like an insane person would have, and he even made sure to spit into her eye, as he hissed with his teeth against her ear, "I got tired of waiting for you, girl. I originally figured you'd make the noble sacrifice and all, and come over to me yourself, but in the end, you didn't, did you? Guess you're still just as craven as ever.

"And also, don't you _ever_ doubt my ability and will to inflict pain upon you. Now that our game of cat and mouse has come to close, we'll see if you can get away from me so easily as you did last time time, bitch!

"I tell you, it was a _real_ fucking riot for me, after you melted my corneas last time, but I'll be the good person that you aren't, and make this slightly less painful for you!"

In the back of her mind, Naminé knew she ought to have been saying or doing something to try and spare her life, but as the darkness clawed at her vision, and seemingly served to make her heart feel so nice and warm, she almost wondered what the point was.

In the end, she'd lived more lately than she'd ever thought she could, via her and her father's bonding, Konishi's understanding of her, regardless of her hair, Olette's friendship, and the strange look in her mother's eye, and Ventus-

**Ventus**! The name came appearing in Naminé's head, like how a life preserver might appear to someone who was drowning at sea.

And just like that, Naminé suddenly remembered what was happening, who she was, and just why she had to live. And that meant she had to fight!

Kicking at Vanitas' chest above her feebly—as she seemed to see a peculiar blue flash of light appear right next to one of her earrings—Naminé was putting all of her strength into her attacks, trying desperately, and with any way she knew how to, to escape, when suddenly...she was hit with the notion that maybe fighting Vanitas wasn't the right solution, after all.

At once, Naminé's mind and heart rejected the idea—as she wanted her revenge on him, so he'd never threaten or hurt her or her loved ones again—but what was it he had just said to her? That he was hurting her because she'd burnt his eyes out, maybe?

Knowing that her options were limited—as Vanitas was still pinning her down, and her throat (though temporarily free, from where _one_of her kicks had sent him off kilter for the moment)—was far too damaged to be uttering any screams or spells, her only hope, then, was to still keep her foot at Vanitas' chest, but for a different reason.

Trying to tap against it gently, like the way an animal might tentatively brush up against someone (or like how she'd accidentally knock her feet against her father's, when trying to do flips in the pool beside him), Naminé tried to appeal to any humanity Vanitas had...

And... shouldn't have even been surprised, she supposed, when he took her actions as a sexual one, and reached his hand into her underwear, and began pulling at her pee hole, causing her excruciating _pain_. "My, my. Someone's a bad girl, aren't they, Miss Naminé? It makes me laugh that that fool, Ventus, risked and lost everything, over a lie and monster like you.

"But you know what? If this is what you want, I'll be merciful with you, dear. I'll fuck you to pieces, in this: the one place where a girl is always a virgin, as that's exactly what you want, isn't it? But first, I suppose I should be a good boy and make you ready for my girth.

"And I should tell you, you should feel honored, Naminé. I don't ever fuck my enemies like this. Killing is the only sport that I need, but you deserved to be defiled in every way possible, you little slut!

And seeming to get distracted from his own plan and what he'd just said, the boy once again tried to break Naminé's jaw, but then—unfortunately—began working his hands dangerously close to his targeted area. And what was that he was holding in his-

No! Not even stopping to think what she was doing—or how she was doing it, as Vanitas touched just one of her pubic hairs, with a finger that _wasn't_holding the giant, fake, wooden cock that he'd meant to implant into her—Naminé focused on the powers Ventus had given her: finally realizing that it was being in the fetal position that activated them.

And as Vanitas' finger was against her, and curved in much the way one's legs curved in on themselves when they were scared, Naminé used that to launch Vanitas away, with the smallest and yet realest and deadliest explosion she'd ever seen.

The flames licked at him in greens, and as Naminé stood there, outside of the broken force field of his she'd just destroyed—that he'd implemented too late—she knew it was only fitting that someone the color of fire and blood be whipped by the color of life and healing: green.

That was why Vanitas wanted her too, Naminé understood now.

And as much as she wished that this had been the end of him, and she'd never have to see him or worry about such things again…

Naminé also knew that he was a fey, and therefore far from dead. She shouldn't have been trying to evoke his ire anymore, but yet... she couldn't help it.

"Vanitas, you poor, poor lost soul... I wasn't trying to seduce you, but rather touch you platonically and with kindness, which… at the heart of it, seemed like something you'd want. But now, I'll never try to do right by you again. No. I never will."

Hunkering down beside where Ven and Olette were both still unconscious, Naminé stood on her haunches—wrapping her arms around her knees, and burying her face there—and she sobbed.

She was a far cry away from the wrathful person she had just been, and far away from the person she'd been that she was just starting to remember. But Naminé found she couldn't be anything but the girl she'd been earlier that day, naïve, simple, and timid, yet still hoping to have a nice day with her friend.

But now… now all of that and that idea had been shattered into dust, and Nami could do nothing more or less than to shatter with it.


End file.
